Russian roulette

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Neither one of them were thrilled with William’s announcement, the strained look on Albert’s face said as much. His eye brows tightened so hard against his face Louis feared it may cause wrinkles, his smile sharp enough that Louis could almost feel daggers piercing his skin. Though given William’s announcement, it was possible that it was Louis’s own anxiety gripping at his chest like rose thorns racking against his pale skin.

 
“Russian roulette?” Louis asked nervously titling his head down at William from where stood dutifully next to his chair, hoping his ears had gone soft. But to his great dismay…
 
“Indeed, a rather deceitful Viscount in Yorkshire has been playing the game to extort money. Out of poor and desperate townsfolk, no less. So I intend to play a game with him.”
 
“Of course” Louis responded dully adverting his gaze. Not prompting further knowing he wouldn’t be answered. They all knew this would be much more than a simple “game” but it didn’t make Louis any less nervous. He had a bad feeling about this entire endeavour.
 
He knew something like this was coming, with Louis having recently finished up his schooling and taking on the role of house keeper and Albert deciding to return home on a more permanent basis from the army. William had all but said the time had come for the first seeds of the Moriarty plan to be sewn, all the pieces were in place and now all was left was to acquire a target “unworthy” enough to suit their needs.
 
Albert sipped his tea seeming to calm himself a little but he was trying to hard. It was obvious the suddenly more relaxed move was a form of respect and not that of agreement. Albert hummed forcing as much agreement out of himself as he could on the idea of William putting himself in a life or death situation. “Well the Viscount, does seem to be that of the unsavoury sort.” On that Louis could agree. The man was bad enough as it was to the people he looked over, a born tyrant with blue blood to match. Despite his very small staff they all were worked to the bone over multiple estates and when anyone became old, ill or “defiant” at the best of times they’d find themselves destitute. At the worst of times nothing but hushed whispers dancing on the brave tongues’ of those who dare to speak their names remained of them. Coupling that with the Viscount’s brutal taxation that made even the most upturned gaze of London’s high society wince, there wasn’t a target more worthy of damnation 
 
The Ruissian roulette game comes from a certain reputation the man held. He seemed to have a nasty gambling habit, making himself well known in Yorkshire’s lower towns bidding amounts beyond any other patrons with only the occasional losses here or there. Lately however, the thrill he once supposedly felt. Ever a fox with a silver tongue, he’d convince down on their luck peasants to enter into a game of Russian roulette with him in order to get him to forgive their debts. A one in six odds game and yet he always remained the victor.
 
William set down his cup as he rose to stand “You needn’t look so worrisome, it’s a game that’s entirely in my favour after all...” With that their mastermind was gone, as expected laying the grounds for suspense like no other artist.
 
Clearly knowing Louis felt the same Albert’s smile faded with a drawn sigh “I don’t envy your plight. try keep close to him during the mission, he’s more cautious when we’re watching than when we’re not”
 

Louis’s gaze darkened “You’re not suggesting I interfere are you?” As much as he feared for William, Louis would not tolerate any disrespect towards his brother and especially not being asked to be party to a betrayal of his orders.
 
If Albert took offence to Louis’s dark glare he didn’t show it the older man’s emerald eyes simply cast towards him and he responded simply “You shouldn’t think me so braisen”
 
Albert’s narrowed eyes eased with a pleasant smile “Let the Moriarty brother’s first mission begins I suppose.”
 
A loaded gun, a fox and a demon, what on earth could ever go wrong
 
 
”So you don’t actually intend to play with him, right boss?” Mr Moran asked as he looked across at William, lifting his muddy boots further above the train cart’s table, ignoring the icy glares Louis was sending him as he continued to disrespect the furniture.
 
It was only the 4 of them for this mission. Louis and William sat on one side of the cart. Louis drifting between silently condemning Moran’s complete lack of tack and staring out the window, William had brought a book so he mostly just buried his head in whatever tale he’d chosen to enlighten himself with today only now looking up at Moran with a soft smile. Opposite himself Fred was there but he clearly didn’t want to be, he looked uncomfortable to be sat next to Moran’s rather “expressive” personality. the boy was  rather new, and quite so Fred was definitely going to need some time to get used to Moran.
 
Unfortunately for him with a 4 hour journey and little to entertain himself Fred was a victim of Moran’s persistent personal questions, to his credit Louis had admired how well the boy had kept stoic and managed to give one word answers. The only thing anyone had learned about Fred the entire journey was that he was incredibly good at keeping his composure with Moran. The same could not be said for Louis, After the 7th time in a row Moran had asked Fred how old he was to minimal response Louis had his dagger gripped under his coat the only thing stopping him from raising it at Moran in a threat was William’s knowing glance. 
 
They’d be arriving any minute but the ever absent minded Moran hadn’t asked a single thing about their orders until they’d passed the 15 minutes to Yorkshire sign his lips parting in a sudden ohh as he questioned William. Louis resisted the urge to sigh as he rested his head back against the cold window, watching the sunset sky paint the approaching buildings in blurred orange and yellow hues. “Of course, have I said anything that should indicate otherwise?” William responded his voice carrying nothing but the grace and dignity expected of him.
 
Of course not because you want me to feel the bitter anguish of worry up until the very moment you dispose of this foul creature. Louis thought bitterly. He knew realistically William had gone to great lengths to ensure his first official plot would be successful, but that didn’t mean Louis his fingernails didn’t coil against the thin seat-fabric in anxiousness, as he pondered all that could possibly go wrong. The raging thoughts in his mind were louder than the increasing horn sounds as they began to approach their destination.
 
Moran wasn’t quiet as foolish as one would think so he wasn’t the one to speak following William’s answer, simply closing his eyes with a smirk and crossing his hands to his chest before a soft voice spoke up. “Mr William You’d risk the odds against this man who has one every time?” Fred questioned his head tilted slightly. The boy seemed to resembled that of a stray cat, cautious though undeniably intrigued. Most people who were drawn to William were either drawn to him through intrigue or admiration, Louis wondered what drew Fred to William. An admiration of the world he intended to build or was he a spectator wanting to watch London’s greatest show from the finest seat in the house.
 
William chuckled softly “Why Fred, whatever could you be referring to, there are no odds at all?”
 
Fred’s head tilted further with a strained noise and he attempted to speak again but before he could get the words out the Train’s horn sounded much louder than before, ear piercingly so, cutting him off from what confusion his face didn’t already voice as they pulled into the station. William smirked a rare but welcome sign of enjoyment that gave Louis some peace of mind, “Come along gentleman, much to do and so little time to do it in” without any further comment he left the cart Moran closely behind, Louis moved to do the same but a sudden pull on his suit stopped him.
 
”Wait, he’s going to be okay isn’t he?” Fred asked looking rather worried now. Louis allowed a small smile to take hold of his face at seeing the genuine fear the boy had for William, even Louis’s stoic disposition could falter at the sight of someone else showing such care for his brother.
 
“Mr Porlock, it’s rude to ask questions you’re already aware of the answer to. Let us depart, it’s improper to keep others waiting, if you’re going to traverse London’s high society you must learn proper manners.”
 

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